


The Scarecrow

by Captain_Von_Delgo



Category: Avantasia (Band)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-01
Updated: 2016-01-01
Packaged: 2018-05-10 21:22:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5601445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Captain_Von_Delgo/pseuds/Captain_Von_Delgo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A remediation of the song 'The Scarecrow' by Avantasia into a short story.</p>
<p>When Scarecrow falls to earth, his memories are scattered and confusion echoes in his mind. Left to his own, he stumbles across a strange man with a tempting offer. With his mind still scattered, will he be able to make sense of the true meaning of the offer before it is too late?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Scarecrow

The man woke in the dust. A pale blue, hazy sky greeted his eyes. A burning sun just beyond his peripheral vision made his eyes water. Already he could feel the skin on the back of his neck burning. Hmm, skin. That is interesting, the man thought as he pulled himself to his feet. He looked at the desert surrounding him and his heart ached for the beauty that could have been. It could have been sprawling green fields, rivers and waterfalls, cattle could have grazed on the land and survived, fit and healthy. But it was nothing.

The man moved, his thin, skeletal legs barely supporting his weight. A body, he thought, his mind filling with ideas and thoughts as he examined his hands and arms. He could feel the sun and the dirt beneath his feet. He was hot, his body burned, but it was nothing compared to the burning when his body fell from heaven.

Slowly the man made his way from the desert and entered marsh and swampland. His body struggled to push through piles of thick mud and dead weeds. The cacophonous sounds of the insects did nothing to dispel the voice in his head demanding answers to questions he tried so hard to think about. He tried not to think about her, but he wanted to know what had happened to her. He wanted to know how he came to be down on earth, but he tried not to think of the answer he knew awaited him. He knew there would come a time when he could run no more. There would always be time.

The swampland changed and the man stopped. A bamboo chair took up space between two enormous trees and on it sat a tall, imposing figure in black. The man stepped back in fear, finding himself suddenly trapped as vines grew behind him to block his way.

'Who are you?' the man in the chair asked, straightening up and peering at the lost man. There was a sparkle in his eyes like gold, but it did nothing to comfort.

'Scarecrow,' the man replied.

'Yes,' replied the man in the chair. 'And you are very lost. Welcome to my domain, Scarecrow. I wondered how long it would take for you to find your way to me.'

'Who are you?'

'Hah! You have fallen from the sky, just as I once fell from the sky. You didn't believe the rules applied to you, just as I don't believe they applied to me. Yet you ask me who I am?' the man did not seem angry, more amused than anything else and Scarecrow found himself trying to take another step backwards. There was something mystifying about the man, the way his face seemed to change from young to old without really changing, and the way his eyes seemed to hold the whole future of the world in them. Scarecrow looked deeply, and found he did not like what he saw.

'I am Mephistopheles,' the man on the chair said, at last, rising and moving towards Scarecrow. 'I am the one to push the pained, I am here to take the fallen away and treat their fears by forcing them to confront them. I am here to penetrate your soul and drag it through this unholy ground until there is nothing left of you that was once holy.'

Scarecrow shivered, but he found himself immersed in what the man had just told him. He felt as if he should be trying to run, but the man's voice was so sweet and peaceful that he did not know why he should be trying to run.

'I don't want to be here,' Scarecrow managed to say, breaking from the trace the man's voice had him under. His head felt groggy, but the questions still pounded. He remembered her.

Mephistopheles outreached hand snapped back from the inch it had been from Scarecrows head. His face contorted in a glare and he snarled. 'I can see your thoughts, you think they are pure.' He spat. 'Wake up to this world! If what you had was meant to be you would be with her now and not with me!'

'No!' Scarecrow cried. 'It was meant to be, there was a time.'

'This is meant to be! You are to come with me, don't you see the eyes from above watching you? You're on a ledge, my friend, the choice is yours. Come with me or stay where the eyes can see you.'

Mephistopheles changed, he grew, dark and imposing. Wings broke from his back and stretched out wide, a single beat threatened to blow Scarecrow away. He twisted from the dead vines that held him and ran. He broke free from the swampland and his bare feet burned as they touched the sands of the desert.

A dark shade covered him and then Mephistopheles landed before him. The shade disappeared and Mephistopheles was a man again. He held his hands up, non-threateningly, calmly wishing Scarecrow to stop and listen to him.

'I'm sorry, my friend, if I scared you,' he purred. 'It's obvious that you don't want to believe she gave you up and made it seem like it was somehow your fault. But your time has come. The winds have changed and blown you here. You believe it's divine, well push all your stakes in with me and join me, together we will fly away and live peacefully.'

Scarecrow knew, somewhere deep inside, that the sweet words were dangerous. It sounded like he had offered him help, comfort and pity. But what he had heard wasn't what the man had actually said. Scarecrow also knew that he did not have a choice and that the man would always follow him until he gave in. He knew this stranger was dangerous, but he also knew his time was long since up. He nodded.

Mephistopheles grinned. It was a short flight to hell, but, for Scarecrow, it would last eternity.


End file.
